


Every Second Wave

by abearofverylittlebrain



Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: Benedict Cumberbatch - Freeform, Cumberfic, F/M, Fluff, Holiday, Island - Freeform, Stranded, deserted island
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-22 02:39:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1573085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abearofverylittlebrain/pseuds/abearofverylittlebrain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which you and Ben get stranded on a deserted island.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

_“You’re stuck on a deserted island. Which three things would you take with you?”_   
_We face this question a hundred times. We answer it when we fill each other’s friendship books as kids, we laugh about it as a teenager playing party games and we discuss the different aspects as an adult after some glasses of wine. We think about this question often in our lives and yet we know if we were asked to pack for a deserted island we would take more than three items with us. Nevertheless we tend to forget one thing:_   
_In reality we aren’t asked._

 

A sharp stabbing pain in your lungs forces you to cast your eyes open. It’s when you try to groan you realise you can’t breathe. You open your mouth, longing for that one redeeming breath of air but it doesn’t happen. Your lungs don’t fill no matter how hard you try. Your eyes already sting with tears when you finally start coughing water. You feel your lungs burning in your chest as you cough more and more. It spills out of your mouth and runs out of your nose before finally, after what seems like hours, you are able to breathe again. It’s quick and hard but the air streaming through your lungs never felt so much like life before.

Once your breath steadies again you are able to concentrate on what lies in front of you. The sea. And sand. A lot of sand. It scratches the skin on your face and you can taste the grains on your salty lips as another wave laps around your cheeks. Where are you? Disorientated you turn on your back to see nothing but blue sky above you. The sea, the beach, the sky… slowly you start remembering. You’re on holiday. It’s your first real holiday in two years. Two weeks on a beautiful island far away from the cold and stressful city you call your hometown. You arrived three days ago – Was it three days ago? What day is it? Moaning you sit up and glance behind your back. There is nothing but an empty beach and some trees in the distance. Looking down your body you realise the bruises on your legs and arms. Under your life vest your clothes are wet and sticking to your skin as you slowly get to your feet. Where are you? This doesn’t look like your nice hotel beach. This doesn’t even look like someplace on the island you wanted to spend your holiday on. You run your hand through your wet and sticky hair and put your braid over your shoulder. The braid… How did you get here? You remember getting ready for a daytrip to the surrounding islands. You remember waking up in your hotel room, dressing for the trip, you even remember braiding your hair. It was early in the morning when you left your hotel to spend the day exploring the other islands. There was a cruise… and some other people. You spent a fun day outside on the boat but how on earth did you get here? Alone? Are you alone?

“Hello?” you shout. “Hey! Is anybody here? Help!” your voice is raspy and every word that leaves your lips burns in your lungs. No answer though.

You remember the barbecue you had at night before you were forced to leave your last stop early because of the rain. Rain… there was a thunderstorm. Heavy winds, massive waves and suddenly your holiday paradise didn’t seem nice at all. But what happened afterwards? The last thing you remember is how they told you to put on your life jackets and to go below but then your memories fade. Once again you turn around. There is no one to be seen. No people, no houses, no ships. Nothing. You’re alone. You’re alive. That’s good. But… you are alone. Alone. No one is there to help you. No place you can go.

Tears are stinging in your eyes as you start walking towards the beach and leave the sea behind you. You try to hold back the desperate laughter but it escapes your lips nevertheless. Let’s think it through, you try to tell yourself. It’s alright. There has to be someone. Somewhere. A deserted island? Stuff like this only happens in movies and books. Not in real life. Not nowadays. There has to be civilisation somewhere. Maybe you’re just on the wrong side of the island… an area no one goes to. A nature reserve. And still there is this voice in your head telling you a deserted island is entirely possible in these climes. Panic is rising inside of you.

Alone. You are alone on a deserted island. Somewhere, lost in the sea. Nobody knows where you are. But who cares? Probably nobody realised you are missing as you were travelling on your own. You wanted a rest from everyone and now… that’s what you got. You’re going to die. Most definitely. Surrounded by water you’re going to die of thirst. Maybe you could manage to find freshwater but it wouldn’t change anything, would it? Panic, horror, fear… your heart feels like it’s close to bursting. Your breath quickens and it’s only then you realise you start hyperventilating. With trembling hands you tear at your life vest to get rid of it. You need to breathe.

 

_You are washed up on a deserted island. What do you do? Go._


	2. Chapter Two

Calm down, you try to tell yourself as you stop to close your eyes and listen to your own hard breathing. You feel some tears streaming down your sunburnt cheeks when you cover your face in your sandy hands. Fuck. This is not how you imagined it.   
Slowly you straighten yourself again and blink against the reflecting sea. Your eyes are scanning the bay in front of you, looking for any hint, anything useful, any… body. You pause. There, in the distance, it seems there is something in the water. Hesitantly you start walking towards it. You can’t tell what it is but it seems it was washed up just like you were. As you’re getting closer you suddenly recognize it’s a body. There’s a human body lying there. Another person. With your last force you start running. Thank God! Thank God you’re not alone.

“Hello! Hey! You! I’m here!” you shout as you’re getting closer.

You never felt so much relief before in your life. Everything is going to be fine. Everything will work out. There is another person now. You’re not alone anymore. You’ll survive this. Together.

Finally you reach the body and let yourself fall on your knees next to it. Catching for breath but laughing you turn the man to his back and start patting his face softly.

“Hey, wake up” you’re still breathing heavily and the words are more like a whisper first.

“Wake up. It’s alright. It’s going to be alright” you brush his hair and some dirt out of his face as you wait for him to open his eyes but nothing happens.

“Hey” you start shaking him by his shoulder.

“Come on, wake. Wake up, please.”

A pleading overtone mixes in your voice as you grab the collar of his life vest and start shaking him again. He looks like he is sleeping, his eyes closed so peacefully you could think he’s… No.   
No, no, no. Horrified you let go of his collar and let him sink back into the sand. He can’t be dead. Not now. Not after you found him. He just can’t… you glance down at this man’s body in front of you, looking for any vital sign but nothing happens. In panic you open the life jacket to uncover his torso but not even his chest is rising and falling. He isn’t breathing.   
You look around for help  till you realise there is no one there to help but you.  Alright. Alright, you try to calm down. With trembling hands you try to feel for a pulse while you search your memory for anything useful.  
CPR, of course! Carefully you bend his head backwards. There is no time for doubts now, but still you hesitate. You’ve learned how to do this. You’ve seen it a hundred times on TV, you’ve practised it yourself at least two times in different classes but still… this is different. It’s not a doll in front of you. It’s a human body. A human, a man. Probably the only other person on this island. He can’t just die. Decisively you open his mouth, pinch his nose closed and bend down to ventilate him. How often did you have to do this? Twice? You can’t remember. You’re already placing your hands on his chest when you suddenly feel the body move beneath your arms. Quickly you turn him to the side when he starts coughing up water just as you did before.

“Thank you” you whisper looking up to the sky thanking whoever is above there. “Thank you” you repeat over and over again while you stroke the stranger’s hair

“It’s going to be fine, you’re going to be fine. It’s alright” you hush him as he starts coughing again. You can’t see his face but you know he’s listening to you.

“Thank god you’re alive” you add once he calmed down and his shoulders stop shaking but rise and fall steadily. Carefully you let go of his hair as he starts moving and turns around to sit up and face you. With his piercing blue-green eyes he gives you a glance that tells you he must be shocked. Shocked and in pain, just as you were only minutes ago.

“What happened?” the stranger’s voice is a raspy whisper when he starts talking to you. The eager and yet confused glance he gives you makes it even harder for you to tell him you don’t know.

Slowly you shake your head. “I was hoping you could tell me.”

The man eyes you up, glancing at your face and clothes, his sight lingers on your bruised legs.   
“You were on that cruise, too?” he nods at your hand where you find the green wristband he’s wearing too. It looks like he is trying to remember whether he saw you on the boat earlier.

Do you know him? Did you talk to him? You nod.

“Are you alright” he sounds a bit worried as you didn’t say anything for the last few minutes he looked around.

“I… I am” your voice is hoarse. “I think I am.”

“We should try to find someone” he says once he gets to his feet and holds his hand out for you to help you up.

“I don’t think there is anyone around” you take his hand and dust off your wet pants.   
“There has to be” he turns around as if he is looking for some path to civilisation.

“It is entirely possible there isn’t.”

“Are you always that positive?” the man arches an eyebrow at you and starts walking towards the trees in the distance.

Is he serious? In a situation like this he’s going to stay positive? Honestly?

“The last thing I remember is being told to put my life jacket during the thunderstorm at night and now I wake up at a beach somewhere… how am I supposed to stay positive?”

“There was a thunderstorm…” he stops in his tracks to face you. “I remember. They told us to go below but some girl slipped and fell, I was trying to help her when a wave hit the boat… Was that you?”

“I can’t remember… I… please don’t tell me it’s my fault we’re here” your voice cracks as you try to swallow down the lump in your throat.

“I don’t know” he shakes his head. “It’s the last thing I remember” the stranger runs a hand through his auburn hair before he covers his mouth and sighs. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s not your fault” he adds and squeezes your shoulder.

“We should go find some water” you whisper as you continue to walk.

“Yeah. I suppose there has to be some freshwater if there are trees, right? Trees, caves, some puddles after last night’s rain… There has to be something.”

“Seems I got stranded with a little survivor expert?” you unbutton your shirt and roll up the sleeves, the top you’re wearing underneath it is still sticking to your salty skin.

“Actually I did watch man vs. wild a few times.”

“I won’t bite the head off of frogs though, if that’s what you’re planning to do.” You didn’t think this was possible but this stranger just managed to make you smile.

“I never understood why you would do this if you have a knife.”

“A knife!” you exclaim and fumble the pocket of your shorts to sigh in relief as you pull out a penknife.

“God that’s great” he glances at you in disbelief. “Do you always carry around things like this? Is there anything else we could use?” he starts searching his own pockets.

“Unfortunately… no, there’s nothing else I have. Lucky enough I brought this with me yesterday. Who thought I could actually use it” you put the knife back in your pocket and watch the man beside you.

“A lighter… and some wet tissues” he sounds disappointed. “At least something” he says when both of you stop in front of what seems to be the edge of a jungle. As if he had seen the sceptical look on your face he takes a step forward and looks at you.

“Normally I’d say ladies first but…”

“After you” you interrupt him and take a step to the side.

“Thank you” he sounds a bit sarcastic when he starts making his way through the bushes. “Oh, by the way” he turns around and holds his hand out for you to shake it. “My name’s Ben.”

 


	3. Chapter Three

Your mouth feels dry and sticky when after some time you stop in your tracks and grab the man’s …Ben’s forearm from behind. You are out of breath and the dizziness that fills your head makes it hard for you to concentrate once he turns around to give you a worried look.

“Hear that?” you manage to ask voiceless, your hand still clutching to the wet fabric covering his arm.

Ben tilts his head back and looks around inquiringly, furrowing his brow.

“That brawl” you clear your throat and loosen the grip to run your hand through some loose strands of hair. “Sounds like a river or something.”

“Yes…” he nods slowly, looking back at you. “It’s from over there” Ben turns around and continues his way through the undergrowth, his pace now faster than before.

The stagnant and moist air along with the oppressive heat makes it hard for you to keep up with him. Branches flick against your legs and scratch the skin on your bare shanks when you follow the tall man leading you through the jungle as if he had never done anything else in his life. Just when you think you can’t take a single step more Ben stops to push some branches to the sides and reveals the view of a small waterfall and its plunge pool beneath.

You can’t recall how you managed the final steps as you finally tumble towards the natural spectacle of life. But the first sip, the first taste and the feeling of cool fresh water soothing your burning throat is something you’ll remember as long as you live. The next half an hour you spend in silence, both of you are drinking from your hands, cooling your sunburnt skin and cleaning your bruises before you lay back to rest.

 

“We should probably build a shelter” Ben wakes you from your thoughts once he starts talking to you again. His voice is no longer hoarse but low and strong when he gets back to his feet and starts looking around.

“Probably” you murmur as you get up to stand in your wet shoes again. Oh how you’d like to get rid of them but walking around this jungle barefoot is just no option.

“We should start collecting wood now… firewood and some for the shelter” he tries to give you a cheering glance but the crestfallen look on his face isn’t one that can be hidden easily. “We’re gonna stay here so… You should stay close to the waterfall when looking for wood. I don’t want you to get lost on your own in this jungle.”

“Uhm what?” you furrow your brows. What is happening here? Is he trying to put on a strongman act by telling you what to do? Such a behaviour never worked on you and it most certainly doesn’t in a situation like this.

“Who knows what’s out there” he gestures at the bordering jungle. “I would say you stay here but I’m afraid we’re not gonna get enough wood if I’m the only one gathering.”

“Oh boy” you sigh, realising with what kind of guy you got stranded here. “First of all… there’s no need to come bully with me. I mean… no one else is here to see it.”

Now it’s Ben who cocks his eyebrows as you continue.

“And actually I don’t think we should stay here” you take a look around.

“As here’s water and water means life I _do_ think we should stay here” he sounds as he would laugh at you.

“And I _do_ think that building a shelter on the ground in the jungle is probably not the best idea if you want to survive the night. After all you just said yourself we don’t know what is out there. And assumed that there may live animals which may or may not be dangerous… Where do you think they would go?” If he wants to make you look stupid and helpless, well, you can play that game too.

“And what do you suggest, hm? Should we build a treehouse? Four rooms, rooftop terrace with view on the pool?” Ben scoffs and gives you an inquiring look.

“Oh we’re trying to be funny. I don’t think that this is the right time and place to be funny” you get more serious again. “No, I suggest we head back to the beach. How long did it take us to come here? About ten minutes? That’s not too bad. And uhm… I think it’s safer there. I mean if someone’s  looking for us they may look there first?”

You can tell by the look on his face he knows you are right. Slowly he shakes his head.

“Fine” he snaps and starts walking back without so much as looking at you.

“Fine” you say and join Ben.

 

On your way back neither of you speaks a word. What a fair chance for the two of you to survive. It’s so much easier if you can’t stand each other, you think to yourself sarcastically. He seemed so nice at first, it made you confident that the two of you could work out a plan together. A plan to survive and to getting found.

You shake your head and pick up another piece of wood from the moist ground. Your clothes are still sticking to your skin just as the scarf around your neck. There is probably not a spot on your body which is still clean, mud is spread all over your uncovered shanks and forearms, your hands dark from the moist soil, dirt and sand sticking beneath your nails. You never had problems with getting your hands dirty but knowing you won’t be able to hop into the shower afterwards is a feeling you need to get used to first.

Once you reach the beach again Ben audibly drops the wood he gathered just minutes before. You can’t help but notice the suppressed anger in his movements once he turns around.

“Your knife” he says and holds out his hand.

“Excuse me?” you drop the wood you collected on his pile and look at him, instinctively grabbing the knife in your pocket.

“I’ll need your knife for putting up a shelter.”

You hesitate. Should you really hand your knife to that angry man in front of you? Who knows what he is up to? Slowly you twist it in your hand.

“Just give me the knife” Ben grabs your hand irascibly and takes it from you. “In the meantime you could put up some wood for a fire or do whatever you think is best.”

You take a breath to say something but he cuts you off.

“What?” he’s staring you down with his aquamarine coloured eyes making sure there is no room for discussion.

Resigning you throw your hands in the air and turn around to walk off in the other direction without giving him another look. You are too scared to start off a fight with this man you barely know and who now is in possession of a knife. Angrily you blink back the tears in your eyes.

Get a grip, you think to yourself. Don’t let him see how close you are to bursting into tears because of this fucked up situation.

Decidedly you shake your head before you start looking for firewood again. You are a grown-up woman who can take care of herself. You won’t let this ass get you down, and if it’s the last thing you do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,
> 
> I hope you are enjoying this fic so far! If so, let me know and shoot me a comment :)
> 
> And let me say I'm sorry for any mistakes, English is not my native language so they can and probably will happen. I'd be happy if you had any remarks for me. Learning never stops, they say ;)


	4. Chapter Four

About an hour must have passed since you started collecting wood on your own. The midday sun feels hot against your neck when you bend down to put the sticks you just found on the pile. With the back of your hand you wipe across your forehead to remove the sweaty strands of hair sticking to it. You are hot but getting rid of your shirt would result in a bad sunburn and this would be the last thing you need right now. Sighing you walk over to the edge of the jungle and let yourself sink to the ground. Covered by the shadow of the trees you allow yourself to rest for a few moments.

Everything happened so fast you didn’t have time to wrap your mind around the situation you’re in. Stranded on a deserted island. How many times have you hoped to wake up from what seems like a bad dream. At least ten times you secretly pinched yourself to make sure this is actually happening. Even after the eleventh time you are still here. Disappointed you fold your hands in front of you and glance at all the cuts covering your palms. Soil and sand is sticking to your skin and what once were perfect manicured nails are now just some light spots shining through the dirt. Your shorts have stains and the sleeves of your once white shirt are now dark. The scarf you brought with you in case it gets windy on the cruise is covered with grains of sand. It doesn’t bother you.

You can feel the sand on every inch of your skin. It made its way through your layers of clothes and is sticking all over your body. It is scratching the skin beneath your dark tank top and even your bikini top. You can feel it in your pants and in your shoes when you walk. It is everywhere. Looking at the horizon and the sea you think about going for a swim. Oh how good would it feel right now to drift away in the cool water and to get rid of all the dirt covering your aching body. Yet you can’t. You can’t relax and think about something like a clean body as long as you’re not sure how to survive the night.

Absentminded you glance to your left where Ben is working on putting up a wooden structure for the shelter. He already leaned a branch onto one of the trees and starts to underpin it with other sticks. You watch him breaking a branch over his knee with his bare hands, dark from the dirt.

Who is this man who got stranded with you? A welcome companion, of course. Well, he was until he let his true self shine trough. Can you trust him? This tall and quite handsome stranger who took your knife from you and raised his voice against you. Do you even have the choice not to trust him?

The rolled up sleeves of the khaki-coloured shirt sticking to his sweaty torso reveal the sight on his bare forearms. You notice the muscles twist and strain beneath his slightly tanned skin as he carves a piece of wood. His movements seem strong and almost angry. With your head tilted you try to glance at his face.

Is he still angry? There is no reason for _him_ to be angry with you. You weren’t the one who nearly shouted.  And it wasn’t your fault you got stranded here… Was it? You can’t be sure. Maybe you were the girl he tried to help. Maybe you were the one who caused the two of you to fall over board and end up here. You can already feel your eyes start burning again when suddenly a loud gasp distracts you from your thoughts. Irritated you glance over to Ben who just dropped the knife.

“Fuck!” he exclaims and turns his back on you, holding his hand. Still you can hear his muffled groans as he swears.

Sighing you get back to your feet and walk towards him hesitantly. You’re not keen on talking to him after the last conversation the two of you shared but it seems like Ben could need some help.

“What happened?” you ask once you stop next to him.

“Nothing” Ben replies through gritted teeth and starts unbuttoning his shirt with his right hand.

“Let me see it” you extend your arm to reach for his left hand but he pulls away.

“It’s nothing. I don’t need your help” he growls as he strips his shirt and takes the fabric between his teeth.

“What are you doing? You’re going to rip your shirt? Seriously?”

Your high pitched voice makes him stop for a moment to look up at you furiously.

“No fine, please, go on. Go on and rip your shirt, the only thing that protects your pale British skin from burning to dust” you scoff.

Ben exhales loudly and glances at you. The look on his face tells you he is close to the edge. Still you don’t back off.

“Let me see it” you repeat vigorously and carefully reach for his left arm to look at it. With a tender movement you touch the back of his hand and bring it closer to you so you can eye his palm. A long cut is dividing his palm in two and blood covers his dirty skin. It is more blood than you’d wish to see, if you’re honest. You expected a small cut and already prepared yourself to mock this man for acting like a sissy. Unfortunately this long and deep cut in front of you justifies his reaction. Gently you let your palm stroke the back of his large hand till your fingers reach his.

“You’ll have to clean that first” you look back at him, trying your best to hide your pity.

“Oh really? Well thank you nurse” he sounds sarcastic as he pulls his hand back again.

“Yeah, really” you grab his other arm and walk him towards the sea.

“I can take care of this myself” Ben frowns, trying to put his shirt back on while stumbling behind you.

“Would you bend down so I can wash your wound?” you ask once the two of you made it ankle-deep into the sea.

“I…” Ben starts to protest but the strict glance you give him silences him. With a deep sigh he bends down to put his hand into the salty water. The sudden pain he feels makes him clench his other fist and without looking you can tell he’s wincing.

“I’m sorry this is going to hurt” you can’t hide the pity in your voice this time when you carefully reach for his hand and start rubbing the dirt off his palm. You avoid touching the actual wound but still you can feel Ben straining due to the pain he must feel. Every now and then a muffled groan escapes his lips but he doesn’t complain. Once his hand is clean you let your palm run over the back of his hand and absentmindedly stroke his fingers with your thumb.

“Are you going to wash the skin off my bones or why is this taking so long?” he grits his teeth.

You dart a glance at him, meaning to say “Ha-ha” before you release his hand and straighten again. Ben brings his hand up to look at his injury, his right hand close to touching the wound.

“Don’t touch it!” you order. “Or do you want to do all of this again?” you ask him as you unknot the silk scarf you used as a belt.

“Is this an attempt to make me forget the pain?” he glances down at your hands fumbling with the fabric.

“Oh please” you scoff. “Stop trying to be funny” you roll your eyes as you bend down to wet the middle of the scarf before you fold it to a bandage.

“What are you doing?” Ben arches an eyebrow at you.

You don’t answer his question but reach for his hand which is already bloody again. Once again you pull him down to wash away the blood before you carefully place the middle of your scarf on his wound. Instantly the white and turquoise fabric is stained red. Ben inhales sharply, fixing his eyes on the wound.

“Sorry” you whisper, knowing this will cause a lot of pain.

You do your best to work gentle when you bandage his palm but in order to staunch the wound you have to pull it tight. Once you tie a knot you have a final look at your work. It does actually look good.

“You just ruined your scarf” he determines, marvelling the bandage covering his left hand.

“Doesn’t matter” you shrug and turn around to walk towards the beach again. “I suggest you go rest in the shadow a bit. Or do whatever you think is best” you glance over your shoulder before turning your back on the man you just saved a second time within a few hours.

Well, maybe not saved, but you definitely kept him from making it worse. And how does he thank you? Right. He doesn’t thank you at all. You shake your head and without so much as looking at him you disappear into the jungle. From what the sun is telling you it is afternoon already and you start feeling hungry. There needs to be something esculent around here. Something other than frogs.


End file.
